


as long as we're together

by desolatemoondust



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: THIS IS GONNA BE WILD, basically the voice, but bright moon edition, everyone else is involved in the show, it's only adora and catra that will be singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24961618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desolatemoondust/pseuds/desolatemoondust
Summary: ever since catra can remember, it's always been the two of them. they would be together all the time, inseparable and  carrying each others tune. they harmonized seamlessly, and catra (against her better judgement) had hoped it would remain the two of them against the world.except it fell apart.and so catra had to rebuild herself, and grow from the experience. a clean slate.a few years later, she enters into a singing show called bright moon's voice, in hopes of being discovered.only, she's not the only one.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora & Mara (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Scorpia (She-Ra), Catra/Double Trouble (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Netossa/Spinnerella (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Kudos: 15





	as long as we're together

as long as we’re together

  
“Catra!”

“No, I’m not doing it again.”

“Come on, just one more time. Please?” The sigh is typically enough to ward off the best of the occupants in the Fright Zone, but the second Adora shuffles into focus, shooting her that stupid yet hopeful smile, Catra knows it’s a wasted action.

Her arms cross on instinct, eyes flickering to the side, even as she admittedly folds.

“Fine, one more time and then that’s it! You know how Shadow Weaver gets when we perform after sundown.”

On reflection, some of her favorite memories occurred when Shadow Weaver was out of sight, out of mind. When it could just finally be the two of them without any pressure or expectation, she found herself let go more and trust her voice.

Adora made it easy regardless of an audience, cause she was at the forefront of everything she would do. Adora was.. is… 

Her gleeful fist pump and ridiculous cheer is enough to make her eyes roll, if only to stifle the affection building up inside her.

_“Summer loving had me a blast!"_

The cringe is instantaneous.

She shoves Adora.

“Ugh, no, I can’t. It was fine when we were watching the movie, sure, but the moments passed.” It was enough that she had to endure the movie, let alone sing the songs on cue. Adora should be so lucky.

Except she always wants more.

And so she watches Adora deflate, switching off the television with the remote. Catra then chooses to stand up and walk in the opposite direction so she doesn't have to feel Adora's disappointment. She finds herself eyeing the new addition on the wall, not that it will have much use. And slowly, she feels the words form on her tongue.

_“I find the map and draw a straight line_  
_Over rivers, farms, and state lines_  
_The distance from 'here' to where you'd be_  
_It's only finger-lengths that I see_  
_I touch the place where I'd find your face_  
_My fingers in creases of distant dark places”_

She’s not sure why Adora bought it, some stupid World Map poster you have to scratch? Sounds like a waste of time _and_ money.

If it were anybody else, she would have torn it down already, scratched all the crap off until there was nothing left to discover. She almost did when she first saw it, instead, she listened patiently to Adora rattle on about how many places she wanted to see, explore and adventure — with Catra.

Adora’s always the better of them. The good one. Positive. 

And so, even though every inch of her body told her she would be stuck here all her lifelong, her heart beat to a different rhythm, if only for a moment.

Cause Adora was good like that, good at giving her hope.

She senses Adora stand up behind her, pinning her to the spot with nothing but silence.

_“I hang my coat up in the first bar_  
_There is no peace that I've found so far_  
_The laughter penetrates my silence_  
_As drunken men find flaws in science_

_Their words mostly noises_  
_Ghosts with just voices_  
_Your words in my memory_  
_Are like music to me”_

Catra was beginning to think she was gonna sing this song alone until she feels Adora retreat, her body shuffling down to the floor.

_“I'm miles from where you are_  
_I lay down on the cold ground_  
_And I pray that something picks me up_  
_And sets me down in your warm arms”_

She moves towards her friend, hovering over her form. Her eyes are closed in concentration, and Catra knows she shouldn’t linger, yet she can’t help herself. If she gets caught, she could always turn it back on her, say how dramatic she's being right now now laying on the floor like that, even though she's secretly in awe of her of expression, and vulnerability.

_“After I have traveled so far_  
_We'd set the fire to the third bar_  
_We'd share each other like an island_  
_Until exhausted, close our eyelids_  
_And dreaming, pick up from_  
_The last place we left off_  
_Your soft skin is weeping_  
_A joy you can't keep in”_

Catra turns away with what little restraint she has left, heading towards her bed in the corner. She practically dissolves onto the mattress, eyes clasped shut.

And even though she is now alone, Adora is still right there.

She allows the words to consume her, to use her body and expel them.

_“I'm miles from where you are_  
_I lay down on the cold ground_  
_And I pray that something picks me up_  
_And sets me down in your warm arms_

_I'm miles from where you are_  
_I lay down on the cold ground_  
_And I pray that something picks me up_  
_And sets me down in your warm arms”_

She won’t ever confess this, but singing with Adora, it’s the best feeling — it’s the only feeling which brings joy to her life. She feels free, and like a vessel to the music. And to be able to do that with the one person who she cares for most of all, to experience it together?

Catra inhales, trying to catch her breath after the last words leave her body. Her senses flood back to her then, and she can hear her heartbeat in her ears.

As well as heavy breathing from above.

Her eyes open to see Adora standing over the bed, matching her labored breaths.

She allows herself a moment to adore her before she flings her arm out to hit her stomach out of reflex.

“Way to leave me hanging on the first verse.”

“Haven’t sung it in a while, I forgot what the lyrics were and.. you were doing an amazing job on your own, you didn’t need me.”

“Yeah, that’s a nice thing to say and all but it’s called a duet for a reason.”

Adora then reaches out, attempting to tickle Catra, who is _so_ not ticklish.

“You’re just bad at taking compliments; face it, you’re good, Catra!” Adora takes it upon herself to let Catra know this by climbing on her, their hands entwining as they wrestle on the bed, arms flailing back and forth.

“That’s so not true, I’m _excellent_ at taking compliments. You’re just trying to make me feel better cause you know you have a better range than me.”

Adora falters at this, sagging onto Catra’s lap, her eyes trying to read her.

“That’s not true, I’m nothing without you.” She waits until Catra returns her gaze, gripping their hands tight.

“It’s like you said, we’re a duet for a reason; we’re better together.”

* * *

_Better together_.

It had been the two of them for such a long time, from little rugrats to teenagers to young adults and then, then it all changed.

Maybe a part of Catra knew how things would inevitably come undone. How the stupid poster would remain on the wall, untouched, forgotten.

Left behind, much like herself.

She thinks back on that song, that specific memory when she wants to be destructive and seek out hurt, pain, pity. It’s a familiar feeling now, this throb in her chest everytime she thinks of.. her.

Aside from this poster and an empty bed, there really is nothing to show her existence was once occupied in these four walls at all.

Catra remembers though, even when she chooses not to.

She doesn’t hesitate when her nails first make contact, or when the tearing begins and all that remains are edges of a poster that once was, but now is in pieces on the floor. She cements this by ripping the remnants off the wall and throwing the excess as far away as possible.

Her phone pings and she’s immediately brought back to the moment. She stalks over to her bed and retrieves it, noticing the message flash on her home screen.

**Idiot** : _Catra, please don’t let this be how it ends. Come with me_.

She unlocks her phone, not bothering to click on the message as she goes through her contacts and finds the person in question, and pointedly stabs down on the _block_ _this caller_ option. 

The phone drops down onto the bed with ease as she shoves down the emotions ebbing to the surface, knows that for her sanity it’s the only way she will survive.

She doesn’t need Adora.

And clearly, Adora doesn’t need her.

**Author's Note:**

> So, the idea came to me because of this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_-PT8qmFl_0  
> I can just imagine them singing like this and it killed me, ended up writing notes for this story late into the night, so you can expect this will be featured later on somehow.
> 
> Anyway, I'm curious to know which characters you think will be the judges (there will be four)
> 
> Lastly, the song used in this is Set The Fire to the Third Bar by Snow Patrol feat Martha Wainwright.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
